Once, I let my writing be my release. Anxiety and fear would flee at the flow of my pen. The ink seemed to drip, cover anything unwanted. In a second, I could recall a fresh breeze, a warm summer day to mind. Oh, to be free again. To let tears stain my cheeks and pain flow free. I am tired of my well-built, gilded cage. I shall not sing with restraint. Once, I flew free. My mind soared with the birds. No boundary was in sight. Innocence held me. Innocence does not prove ignorance. For I fear, in my “knowledge”, I have become ignorant. Innocence gives freedom. It cannot be lost. Some just have this innate faith. This faith cannot be destroyed. Building, remaining, sustaining, captivating. No. Faith cannot be lost in the innocent.
